The Manitowoc pilot. [volume] (Manitowoc, Wis.) 1859-1932, 1887-04-21
A Mexican Boudoir.

ihe room IN this casa which IS my
especial sanctum is daintily oriental
enough for any caliph or pasha to oc-
cupy, writes Fannie Ward. Its mas
sive door, elaborately carved by hands
that have been dust these many years,
was never spoiled by paint or varnish.
1t is garnished with enormous iron
hinges and staples, like the fastenings
of barn, and opens of course into the
udper corridor facing the court The
one window looking upon the street is
indeed "a thing of beauty and a Joy
forever" the soft gray of its wooden
bars Gin lieu of the customary from,
enlivened by the scarlet blossoms of
the vine clambering up outside, while
its deep ledge serves me for book
case, writing desk and curiosity shelf
in general. There are neither shades
nor glass in this window, and its oaken
shutters are seldom closed. Doubtless
its tiny balcony has been used many
times la Juliet by generations of pre-
vious occupants, who have been wooed
and won by serenading R0meOs, ac-
cording to the Mexican cOStUnlbre.
My room is tloored with square tiles
of Pompeian red, with rug OF braided
straw, and goatskin before the bed
which my soul appreciates, 1 assure
you-between my slippers and these
old bricks, which feel like tombstones
in the early mornings. Here are chairs
enough to seat the whole Mexican
army, almost, ranged in funeral rows
straight around the four walls. The
usual triangular tables are fitted into
each corner, and there are several
quaint articles of furniture of solid
mahogany, claw-footed and brass
bound, brought from France or Spain
by the grandparents of my hostess,
every one of which would delight the
eyes of an antiquarian. But the chief
treasures that would shine in any col
lection of ceramics in the land are the
great water jar and bowl of native pot
tery-dark red, with strange figures
painted upon thenl-which it would be
no sin to worship, since they are not
Gin the likeness of anything III the
heavens above, or the earth beneath,
or the waters under the earth"
My little brass bedstead, whose slen-
der framework is kept so polished that
it glitters like gold, is draped, cur
tanned and beruffled like a French
woman's, but has no manner ofspnngs,
and its adamantine mattress | would
gladly exchange for good, soft board!
We have no "quiltsn and seldom any
use for blankets in this portion of
Mexico; and the single counterpane of
damask, gorgeously tioweTed in Grim
sOR and green, fringed all around and
tasseled at the corners, is carefully dis
posed SO as not to conceal the fine
linen sheets which trail far below it.
The latter are edged on all sides with
lace and garnished with much ''drawn
work" of exceeding fineless and elab-
crate pattern.
Mexican pillows are not fat and
square, like ours, but are narrow, flat,
and each exactly as long as the bed is
wide, like our holsters. Their pink or
crimson ticks" are stuffed with cotton
or Spanish moss never with feathers)
and their cases are the special pride of
the housewife. They are of finest linen,
with broad stripes of crOcheted or lace
insertion set in at the sides.
Over the various species of animals
which occupy that couch conformity
with myself, disputing its possession,
and often gaining the day-or rather
the night-it is well to discreetly' draw
the veil, merely remarking that in this
tropical climate other creatures abound
than the wicked tiea--especially when
mo man pursueth." "
Very sensibly, in this vermin-infested
country, trunks are never set flat upon
the floor and their contents left to the
tender mercies of mice, cockroaches ct
al, but are elevated upon rocks made
for the purpose. Closets and ward
robes are unknown in Mexican houses,
but chests, bureaus and wooden pegs
answer all purposes.-M Y Graphic